


All the Blame

by MerlinFicDriveThru



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Character Turned Into a Ghost, M/M, Modern Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-01
Updated: 2015-10-01
Packaged: 2018-04-24 05:28:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4907209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MerlinFicDriveThru/pseuds/MerlinFicDriveThru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Merthur Person B crying and screaming that they’re sorry, believing they caused Person A’s death. Person A’s ghost at their side, helplessly trying to comfort and hold someone they can no longer touch, or speak to, anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All the Blame

Merlin wasn’t a normal ghost.

He found most ghosts to be rather dull actually. They all seemed very sad and mopey and he didn’t really understand what the point of that was. They were dead, it’s not like it could get any worse.

Merlin was always an optimistic kind of person. He didn’t see any reason to change that just because he was dead.

Sometimes, when he was feeling a little lonely in his ghostly optimism, he would go check on Arthur. Those were always dark days.

Arthur seemed to fall into a routine without Merlin around.

Not a particularly fun one, either.

He went to the coffee shop and bought a bagel and a coffee, and if he changed it up at all he’d pick up a paper. Then it was work, and he didn’t leave work for breaks or fresh air until late, when he’ go home and go to bed.

If Merlin was persistent in the kitchen, pushing forks down or just shouting very loudly (he was pretty sure Arthur couldn’t hear him, but maybe the feeling got across), Arthur would eat a cold dinner of cereal.

He lost a lot of weight in that first month or so of Merlin being gone.

It was hard to watch him suffer. As guilty as it made him feel, sometimes Merlin wouldn’t visit for days because he knew he’d see that pain on Arthur’s face.

He thought he might visit more when Arthur had stopped mourning so deeply.

But it was hard to stay away when he missed the smell of Arthur’s soap or the sound of Arthur’s laugh or the way he mumbled in his sleep.

He kept going back and hoping that maybe today was the day when Arthur started healing.

That was his reasoning this night in particular. Gloomy ghosts were getting him down, so he figured if he was going to deal with gloominess, it would at least be better with Arthur around.

Except not.

Arthur wasn’t mumbling in his sleep or laughing or washing.

He was crying.

It was always heartbreaking when Arthur cried.

He’d never learned how to cry quietly or softly or easily. He cried loud, and with all his pain in the sound. He had never done anything halfway, and when it came to crying, he was an overachiever.

Merlin heard, in the midst of gasps and retching, something that nearly broke him.

It was his name, and an apology all at once.

“What on earth are you on about, clotpole?” Merlin reached out, but Arthur couldn’t feel him. Or hear him. “What are you sorry for?”

Arthur hunched further, answering a question he couldn’t possibly have heard. “It’s all my fault. I’m so sorry. Just come back.”

Merlin had never wished he could so badly. He tried harder, touching Arthur and willing it to matter. Willing him to feel it.

It hadn’t been Arthur’s fault. Someone had been speeding through the light, way too fast. Merlin hadn’t seen them. It had all been over with a bang. It couldn’t possibly have been Arthur’s fault.

Why?

_“Merlin, can you grab me a coffee? I’m running late for work.” And Arthur was out the door before Merlin could respond._

“Oh, no. No no no. Arthur.” Merlin leaned forward, feeling for the first time the onset of brokenness he had seen in the other ghosts. Is this why? Is this what shattered them? “It’s not you, it was never you. The other driver, he wasn’t paying attention. He was on the phone, it’s nothing you could have prevented.”

Arthur continued to cry, his breathing coming quick and shaky. No one else was here. No one was here to help him. Merlin was afraid.

“Arthur, please.” He ran his hand over Arthur’s back, kissed the back of Arthur’s head where his hands were clasped, whispered and cried and screamed beside him. “Arthur, no, it wasn’t you.”

Neither one could comfort the other, and Merlin found the pain in dying.


End file.
